


Unexpected, Uninvited, and Unwelcome

by AceMoppet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Katsuki Yuuri, Mild Transphobia, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: He tugged his robe tighter to brace himself against the cold, but nothing could prepare him for the people who stood outside.“Hello Vitenka.”'M-Mama?!'“And me!!! You forgot your little sister so easily Vitenka!”“Wh-why are you guys-”“Here?” Victor’s mother smirked, her unnaturally pink lips curling in an almost sinister manner. “Why Vitenka, we're going to be staying here.”Aka, the fic in which Victor's family comes to stay with our favorite skating couple.Aka, the fic in where we learn why Victor really neglected his life and love for over twenty years.





	1. Guess Who?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is my second fic on this site, and to be honest, I only have vague ideas of where I'm going with this, but we'll see how it goes! I really wanted to write something with a Genderfluid Yuuri (headcanon, and again, you will pry this from my cold dead hands), but I also wanted to write something about Victor's family (we don't know ANYTHING about our fav silver Russian's fam, why so?) so here we are!
> 
> Please note that while I will reread and edit this fic as best as I can, at the end of the day, I'm only human, so I can make mistakes. If you see anything wrong with this fic (say, me accidentally misgendering Yuuri, or a simple grammar mistake), please feel free to point it out and I will fix it.
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you feel like it. Constructive criticism is really welcome. Also, if you like this story, check out my other yoi fanfic "Lay It Out, Let It Not Lay".
> 
> Enjoy!

Victor woke up to sunshine streaming through the windows. He jolted slightly when he realized how late it was ( _ Shit, Yakov is going to  _ **_kill_ ** _ us…) _ before relaxing as he remembered that today was a rare day off for both of them.   
  
He yawned and rolled over, smiling down at Yuuri's sleeping face. One of the many endearing things that he'd learned about Yuuri was that they always slept with their mouth open, which meant that they always drooled. Victor didn't mind; if anything, it only made him fall more in love with Yuuri, to know that only he was able to see this vulnerable side that they had.   
  
Yuuri shifted, their arm tightening around Victor's waist. Victor's breath caught as they scrunched their nose ( _ adorable _ , Victor thought fondly) before opening their eyes.    
  
"Vic-tor..."    
  
Victor smiled helplessly at his sleepy lover. "Good morning  _ solnyshko _ ," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss onto Yuuri's forehead.    
  
Yuuri granted before nuzzling their face into the crook of Victor's neck. "S'late..."   
  
Victor huffed in amusement. "It's our day off,  _ solnyshko _ ."

 

“Mm.”

 

Victor chuckled and placed a kiss in Yuuri’s tangled bed head. They lay there, basking in both the sunlight and each other’s warmth, hands slowly stroking across each other’s bodies. There was nothing sexual in the action, just pure love and intimacy as they slowly memorized the other, vines of warmth following wherever their hands touched.

 

It was a while before Victor broke the soft silence. “Yuuri,” he whispered, “let go of me.”

 

Yuuri locked their arms tighter around Victor and practically burrowed their nose into Victor’s neck. “No.”

 

“Yuuri,” Victor pleaded, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

 

Yuuri grumbled, but they loosened their arms just enough that Victor could slither out of their grip, which he did, almost kicking Makkachin in the side as he escaped. Victor laughed as Yuuri smushed their face into Victor’s pillow and patted their head gently before going off to relieve himself.

 

_____________________________________________________

 

Victor had just finished making tea for the both of them when Yuuri walked into the kitchen, eyes brightening as they smiled at Victor.

 

“Good morning,” they said as they accepted the tea, bending down to pet a sleepy Makkachin who’d gotten up with Victor only to fall asleep again at his feet.

 

Victor kissed Yuuri’s cheek, neatly side stepping his poodle as the dog stood up and made her way to the living room. “Mm, good morning  _ solnyshko _ ,” he replied before moving over to sit down on the couch. “Pronouns, dear?”

 

Yuuri sat down next to him, and took a sip of their tea before answering. “Hmm, female.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Yuuri smiled at him before reaching out for the remote to turn on the TV. She flipped through the channels, finally settling on a Russian cartoon. She leaned back on the couch, snuggling with Victor and sipping her tea as she tried to follow along with what was happening onscreen. Her Russian had gotten better as she lived with Victor in St. Petersburg, but it was still quite rudimentary, so she took every chance she could to practice her fluency.   
  


Victor looked down at her, taking in the way she mouthed along to the theme song, thin lips slowly forming each word. A wave of warm affection washed over him as he realized, once again, just  _ how  _ fucking lucky he was to have Yuuri by his side. He still hadn't gotten used to that fact, and he honestly hoped he never did.

 

After a while, Yuuri noticed Victor staring at her. “What are you doing?” 

 

Victor smiled. “Appreciating the piece of art right in front of me.”

 

Yuuri blushed and buried her face into Victor's shoulder. “Stop teasing,” she mumbled.

 

“But I'm not!” Victor said indignantly. “Yuuuuuuuri!”

 

Yuuri laughed and pulled back, brown eyes shining with adoration for the man she'd fallen for. “Vitya.”

 

Victor's eyes softened, and he reached his hand out to touch Yuuri's cheek. “Someday,  _ solnyshko,  _ you will see in yourself everything I see in you.”

 

Yuuri swallowed at the intensity of Victor's gaze, blue eyes so penetrating it seemed like they could see her soul. “Vitya,” Yuuri breathed, “I lo-”

 

**_RIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIING!_ **

 

Makkachin started barking while Yuuri, who was startled by the racket, stumbled back in shock, hissing slightly as some of the still-hot tea spilled onto her legs. “I'm fine,” she said, waving Victor's frantic hands away, before going to the kitchen to clean herself with a napkin. “Victor, go answer the door.”

 

“Alright. Sure you don't need any help?”

 

“No!” Yuuri's voice was muffled and distant as she rummaged around in the cupboards for some napkins.

 

**_RIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIING!_ **

 

Victor sighed before entangling himself from the cushions and walking over the to the door. 

 

“Come on girl,” he called Makkachin tiredly. So much for a day off.

 

He tugged his robe tighter to brace himself against the cold, but nothing could prepare him for the people who stood outside.

 

“Hello Vitenka.”

 

_ M-Mama?!  _

 

“And me!!! You forgot your little sister so easily Vitenka!”

 

“Wh-why are you guys-”

 

“Here?” Victor’s mother smirked, her unnaturally pink lips curling in an almost sinister manner. “Why Vitenka, we're going to be staying here.”

 


	2. A-W-K-W-A-R-D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Victor’s family meets Yuuri, and they have a talk with our favorite Russian son. Poor Victor!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is not out to the world as genderfluid as per their choice. The Katsuki family knows, as do the Nishigori family and Minako. Phichit and Victor know, obvs, and the Russian rink fam also knows. Some of the other skaters might know; I’ll leave that one up to your guys’ imagination. However, since most of the world doesn’t know, they constantly refer to Yuuri as “he/him”. All the people who know try not to misgender them in public, but sometimes, it is unavoidable, and they have to misgender Yuuri. I will try my best to make sure it doesn’t happen often in this fic, but given the situation, sometimes it is unavoidable. If someone reading has a respectful way of getting around this, please tell me.
> 
> As always, if there is anything wrong in this chapter, please tell me, and I will fix it.

_“Hello Vitenka.”_

 

**_M-Mama?!_ **

 

_“And me!!! You forgot your little sister so easily Vitenka!”_

 

_“Wh-why are you guys-”_

 

_“Here?” Victor’s mother smirked, her unnaturally pink lips curling in an almost sinister manner. “Why Vitenka, we're going to be staying here.”_

 

_____________________________________________________________________

 

“Eh?”

 

“Vitya, who is it?” Yuuri had come up to stand next to him, face turning worried when Victor continued to stand so rigidly. “Oh, hello!” she said, finally noticing the two women who stood outside, “I don’t believe we know you-”

 

“Vitenkaaaaaa, so mean! You haven’t even told your boyfriend about us!”

 

At that, Victor finally unfroze. “Ah, Yuuri’s not my boyfriend, Anfisa,” he said with a strained smile.

 

The brunette ( _Anfisa?)_ pouted, before whining, “Call me Anfisochka, Vitenka! I’m your little sister after all~”

 

 _Sister?!_ Yuuri thought dazedly, _Then, that must be…_

 

“Vitenka,” Victor’s mother’s voice cut through Yuuri’s inner panic, “won’t you let your mother and your sister inside? Really Vitenka, I _know_ I raised you better than this. Though,” she sniffed in disdain, “you might not have picked up on it, judging from how often you’d run off to the rink.”

 

Victor’s tense shoulders seemed to tighten even more, and Yuuri was afraid that any moment now, they would snap. “Victor,” she said softly, not knowing how to comfort her fiance in a situation like this.

 

Makkachin whimpered and pawed at her master, who finally snapped out of his stance long enough to mutter a terse “come on in” before backing away from the door and speed-walked to the living room.

 

Yuuri stumbled back as Victor’s sister flew into the apartment, wincing as she screeched her brother’s name like a banshee. She flinched as Victor’s mother entered the apartment and leveled her an imperious look before walking down the hallway. Dimly, Yuuri closed and locked the door before following them, all the while thinking, _What the hell is going on?!_

 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

 _This is awkward_ , Yuuri thought.

 

Awkward might have been an understatement because while Anfisa was babbling away ( _much like Victor_ , Yuuri noted fondly), Victor and his mother sat in stony silence, him with a tense smile on his face as he occasionally nodded at his sister and her sipping the tea Yuuri had made her (“Well,” she’d sniffed, “It’s not my usual, but I suppose it will do”).

 

Yuuri, on the other hand, was alternating between making polite noises at Anfisa whenever she paused to take a breath and glancing worriedly at Victor’s tense form beside her. He’d clasped his hands together, and Yuuri had not seen them return to their natural shade since he’d done so.

 

“So Vitenka,” Anfisa smiled at her brother, “where are we going to sleep?”

 

“Ah, you can-”

 

“Not you, piggy, I was talking to my brother.”

 

Victor’s head shot up quickly, and he leveled a glare at his sister. “Don’t call my fiancee that,” he said softly.

 

Anfisa tilted her head in confusion. “But why not? He does look like a pig!” she argued, seemingly ignorant to the growing fury on Victor's face.

 

“You-”

 

“Victor,” Yuuri cut him off abruptly, having recovered from Anfisa’s bluntness, “I'm going to clean up the guest room, okay?” Then, before Victor could have a chance to protest, she learned in and whispered,

 

“We'll talk later.” With that, she passed softly out of the room with Makkachin at her heels.

 

“You could have done better, Vitenka.”

 

Victor snapped his head back to his mother, who'd finished her tea and was now staring at him judgingly. He forced himself to unclench his teeth before pasting a smile on his face.

 

“Why Mama, I don't think I know what you're talking abou-”

 

“Drop the act, Vitenka. You and I both know we're talking about your current infatuation.”

 

Victor breathed in through his nose but did not drop his smile. “Yuuri is not my current infatuation, Mama. I’ve said it before; Yuuri is my fiancee-”

 

“Yes, yes and you love him,” She dismissed.

 

Victor bit his tongue violently, almost tasting blood. “Yes, I do,” he agreed almost cheerfully.

 

Victor’s mother stared coolly at him, he tried hard not to fidget under that familiar stare. “Vitenka, he is not worthy of you - Ah no, don’t interrupt me now,” she said as Victor opened his mouth to protest, “he is just a poor skater, worse than you, though that in itself is an admirable feat.”

 

 _Good thing Yuuri is out of the room_ , Victor thought hysterically.

 

“You, however, are of noble lineage. Don’t you think it is time you act like so?”

 

At this, Victor finally broke character and groaned. “Mama,” he began tiredly, “It is 2017. The nobility don’t have power anymore.”

 

“All the more reason to cling to our roots, Vitenka,” Anfisa piped up, “Everyone else has turned their backs on us; why should we turn our backs on each other?”

 

Victor sighed. “Anfisa-”

 

“Ah, excuse me?”

 

Three sets of blue eyes turned to Yuuri. She flushed slightly at the sudden attention before saying, “The guest room is ready. If you’d like, you can, um, go see it now?”

 

“Thank God! I could really use some sleep; we were traveling all night you know, trying to reach you.”

 

“Y-you could have called us in advance. We would’ve had everything ready for you,” Yuuri said as she led Anfisa down the hall.

 

“But then where’s…” their voices trailed off as they walked out of sight and presumably into the bedroom.

 

“Vitenka.” Victor turned to look at his mother, who was towering over him.

 

He swallowed, vaguely intimidated. “Yes Mama?”

“We’ll talk later on this subject.” And with that, she walked out of the room regally, leaving only Victor behind as he finally unclenched his hands and stared at his bloodless knuckles.

 

“Yes Mama,” he whispered.


	3. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a talk, but not between the people we expected. Also Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! School and concerts have literally taken over my life; I had to write a lot of this on my phone. Though it is a bit longer than usual. 
> 
> Thank you for your guys’ comment and kudos! They always make me squeal internally and turn into a goo of happiness. Again, if I made a mistake (grammar, misgendering Yuuri), please tell me and I’ll fix it. 
> 
> Please continue to leave comments or kudos! Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> Enjoy!

_ “Vitenka.” Victor turned to look at his mother, who was towering over him. _

 

_ He swallowed, vaguely intimidated. “Yes Mama?” _

 

_ “We’ll talk later on this subject.” And with that, she walked out of the room regally, leaving only Victor behind as he finally unclenched his hands and stared at his bloodless knuckles. _

 

_ “Yes Mama,” he whispered. _

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hey Phichit-kun.”

 

“Yuuri! How are you? Is Russia still treating you well?”

 

Yuuri smiled at Phichit’s teasing tone. “Mhm. It's going well. What about you?”

 

“Ugh, Ciao Ciao is making me train until my legs give out! I think it was a mistake to tell him that I wanted to learn more quads; if I never do another Quad Sal in my life, it will be too soon!”

 

Yuuri laughed quietly. She shuffled her phone to her other hand as Phichit kept talking about his training sessions and how he was commissioning his own music for next season.

 

“I really want to show my country how fun it is to skate!” he said excitedly.

 

“I'm sure you will! Your programs sound amazing!” Yuuri encouraged.

 

“Thanks Yuuri! But what about you? How are your programs going?”

 

“They're going well; Victor is going to teach me the Quad Lutz soon. Hopefully I can master it before next season.”

 

“I have no doubt you will.” Phichit’s voice was resolute, and it made Yuuri’s chest swell with warmth.

 

“Thanks Phichit-kun. As for my programs, I'm commissioning something for both of them. The music hasn’t come in yet though…”

 

“Oh! Is Liv composing one of your songs again?”

 

“Yes! I love what she did with Yuri On Ice last year, so she’s composing my free program again this year. Her brother is composing the other piece since she’s so busy.”

 

“So you already know what your theme is going to be?”

 

“Mhm. Breaking boundaries.”

 

“Wow, exciting!”

 

Yuuri smiled softly. “Mm yeah.”

 

“Well, you sound like you're having fun! But you're a bit quiet tonight; is anything wrong, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri swallowed at the sudden concern in Phichit’s voice. “It's nothing really…”

 

“But?”

 

Yuuri bit her lip before answering. “Victor's... family is here.”

 

“Eh? Seriously?!”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Phichit whined, “why didn't you tell me they were coming?”

 

Yuuri winced. “They showed up out of nowhere,” she whispered indignantly, glancing back at the closed door.

 

“Really? That seems a bit… rude.”

 

“It's not really that much of a deal,” Yuuri said defensively, “we already have a couple of unused rooms, and we were planning on grocery shopping today anyways. Really, it's no big deal!”

 

“I still hear a ‘but’ Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri hesitated, before answering quietly. “I’m worried about Victor.”

 

“Victor?”

 

“Yes. Something’s wrong, I don’t know what, but Victor’s not acting like himself. He-he keeps smiling like he does for the cameras, you know the one, right? A-and, he’s not  _ talking _ Phichit-kun, not like he usually does, and it’s just- I-I don’t know how to explain it but-”

 

“Whoa Yuuri, slow down. Take a deep breath for me, okay?” Phichit commanded.

 

Yuuri took a deep breath and let it out. She did it again.

 

“Good, that’s good Yuuri. Feel better?” 

 

“...Yeah. Sorry about that.”

 

“Hey no problem! You were saying?”

 

“Right,” Yuuri took another deep breath before continuing, “Um, I basically told you everything. So…”

 

“Okay,” Phichit said, “So, have you talked to him yet?”

 

“Not really, we haven’t had the time.”

 

“Okay, do that first. Do you have your thoughts together?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is Victor there with you?”

 

Yuuri glanced again at the door. “Not right now,” she said, “but he will be soon.”

 

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened, and in walked Yuuri’s fiance, looking extremely worse for wear despite the shower.

 

“Phichi-kunt,” she said, following Victor’s weary steps with her gaze, “I’ll call you back later, okay?”

 

“Okay! Bye Yuuri!”

 

“Bye.” After she ended the call, she walked over to Victor and wrapped her arms around him.

 

“Yuuri,” he sighed, nuzzling into her neck, “you didn’t have to hang up for me.”

 

“I was about done anyway,” Yuuri said, trailing her fingers through Victor’s hair.

 

“Mm.” Victor pressed a kiss into Yuuri’s neck, tightening his arms around her as she did the same. They stayed like that for a while, hugging and swaying in the middle of the room, dancing to the sounds of their quiet breaths before Yuuri pulled away. Without letting go of Victor’s hands, she guided both of them to their bed. They both kicked off their slippers and slid under the covers, not once letting go of at least one of their hands. 

 

Once they’d adjusted and their arms were wrapped around each others’ again, Victor reached out his arm to turn off the lights, letting the soft moonlight that streamed into the rooms illuminate their faces.

 

“Victor,” Yuuri whispered.

 

“Yes Yuuri?”

 

“Can we talk?”

 

Victor tensed, not expecting the question. He slowly relaxed again as Yuuri stroked his back soothingly though even then his eyes remained alert.

 

“You okay now?”

 

Victor let out a shaky breath. “...Yeah.”

 

“Do you want to talk right now? It’s nothing bad Vitya, but we do need to talk about it at some point.”

 

Victor took a deep breath. “Yeah, let’s talk right now,” he said quietly.

 

“Are you sure?” Yuuri’s brows furrowed worriedly. “We can talk later if you want-”

 

“Yuuri,” Victor interrupted firmly, “let’s talk right now.”

 

There was a beat of silence before Yuuri answered. “Okay.” Then she shifted slightly so that she was resting on her forearm instead. She started to reach over Victor and grab her glasses, but he beat her to the punch. She smiled in thanks as he offered her the glasses before putting them on and blinking to adjust to her sudden vision. 

 

She sat up and leaned against the headboard. Victor copied her and tugged the sheets higher so that they fully covered their snuggling bodies.

 

As their legs tangled together, Yuuri spoke. “Vitya,” she trailed off, hesitating on how to start off the conversation before deciding to comment on Victor’s state. “You looked a bit tense today.”

 

Victor huffed slightly. “There’s a reason for that Yuuri.”

 

“Tell me the reason?”

 

He swallowed and licked his lips. “I…”

 

Yuuri took Victor’s hand in hers and slowly rubbed circles into his palm. The rhythm soothed Victor, and he began to speak. “My family, Yuuri, is not like yours. They’re not warm and genuine. My mother is not kind like Mama Katsuki, and well, you saw how different Anfisa is from Mari.”

 

Yuuri chuckled at that. “Go on.”

 

Victor smiled briefly and ducked his head under Yuuri’s chin. Yuuri gasped as he kissed her neck but otherwise kept stroking his hand. “Go on, Vitya,” she whispered again.

 

“My parents,” Victor faltered, before starting again. “My parents never really supported my skating. They… weren’t bad at the beginning. Not that they’re bad now,” he hastened to say, “but they were never really…”

 

“There,” Yuuri whispered.

 

Victor swallowed once and let out a shaky breath against the soft skin of Yuuri’s neck. “Yeah.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri called softly after they’d passed a few minutes in silence, “do you want to stop?”

 

Victor tensed. “But there’s more, Yuuri,” he mumbled.

 

“I know, Vitya, I know,” Yuuri patted his head, “but it’s late, and you must be tired, ne? I’ll still be here; you can tell me the rest whenever you feel like it.”

 

“...Okay.”

 

They slowly tucked themselves under the covers, never once losing contact with each other. They reached for each other and held on as the moonlight washed over them. When sleep finally claimed them, they lay intertwined; no star which shined on them could tell where one ended and the other began.

  
  
  
  



	4. Victor's Way of Coping is Eerily Similar to His Fiance's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out that Yuuri is not the only one who stress skates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note about the bracelets; I researched a bit online about genderfluid bracelets (there a lot of great bracelets out there!) and I found a couple that you could use to show others what pronouns you’d like to use that. The main design for Yuuri’s bracelet is the first one at this site: 
> 
> https://www.etsy.com/listing/178302987/gender-fluid-bracelet
> 
> And another thing: I realize I screwed up the timeline just a little bit when Yuuri and Phichit talked last chapter. So I went back and fixed a couple of things. You don't have to read it: just know that Yuuri is getting both of their songs for their programs composed by the person who made Yuri!!! On Ice (Liv) and her brother. I'll be fixing this soon after I upload this chapter. As always, if there is a mistake, feel free to correct me!
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life!
> 
> Enjoy!

_They slowly tucked themselves under the covers, never once losing contact with each other. They reached for each other and held on as the moonlight washed over them. When sleep finally claimed them, they lay intertwined; no star which shined on them could tell where one ended and the other began._

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“So, Yuuri,” Anfisa drawled.

 

“Y-yes?” Yuuri said as he picked up an apple.

 

“How long have you and Vitenka been living together?”

 

Yuuri blinked at the question. “Well I moved in with him in January… and it’s July now so 5-6 months depending on how you count it.”

 

“And you knew him for at least another six months before that.”

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri smiled, happy that he and Anfisa were finally connecting. Maybe things would go easier now-

 

“So why didn’t he tell you about us?”

 

-Or maybe not.

 

Yuuri’s smile fell slowly. “He probably had his reasons…”. Yeah, that statement sounded weak, even to him.

 

“Mhm.” Anfisa tilted her head as if in agreement, but her smile had a sharp, almost cruel edge to it. “It’s just weird, you know, that he didn’t even mention us in passing-”

 

“-Like I said,” Yuuri cut in firmly, but politely, “Victor had his reasons for not telling me about you, and I trust that they were good reasons. I trust _him_.”

 

Anfisa pouted as Yuuri went back to packing the bentos for the Russian team. It was funny really; he’d started off making bentos for only him and Victor, but somehow he’d ended up making bentos for everyone every day more or less (Victor helped him make the food, but he was honestly shit at arranging it, so Yuuri always did it).

 

“And that’s Georgi’s,” Yuuri mumbled absentmindedly. He packed the last of the bentos away into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, petting a boofing Makkachin on his way out of the kitchen.

 

“Hey where are you going?” Anfisa called after him.

 

“To the rink,” Yuuri said curtly. “Please make yourselves at home,” he added a bit more gently as he shut the door behind him.

 

He turned to Makkachin after locking the door. “Come on, Makka!” he called before jogging off.

 

“ _Boof!_ ”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Oi, Katsudon!”

 

“Ah, good morning Yurio!” Yuuri beamed and took off his jacket, his right sleeve getting caught on the blue band around his wrist. He clucked his tongue in dismay before carefully pulling untangling the sleeve and taking off the rest of his jacket. Satisfied, he put his jacket and bag in his locker. He put on his skates and walked over to Yuri, who was waiting for him by the door.

 

“Why are you so late today, anyways?” Yuri said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“H-Hey now, I wasn't _that_ late!” Yuuri protested.

 

Yuri looked unimpressed. “You were supposed to be on the ice five minutes ago.”

 

“Ah, yeah,” Yuuri rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Actually-”

 

 _KRRR!_ Yuuri and Yuri flinched at the furious slapping of skates and turned to see the man on the ice. Yuuri’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of his fiance frantically skating his short program, whirling through the angriest step sequence he'd ever seen.

 

 _This isn't right,_ Yuuri thought dazedly, _This part is supposed to be loving._

 

Victor's theme this year was “Life and Love”. Though the theme itself was admittedly cliche, Victor was absolutely adamant that he would do it, and he was really excited about showing everyone his newfound inspiration.

 

Therefore, it made little sense that he was skating so angrily for a piece that was meant to be soft. It made even less sense that Yakov, who was standing quietly near the barrier, was allowing it.

 

“Good morning Coach Yakov,” Yuuri said. Yakov’s eyes flicked over to Yuuri and then to his wrist, and he nodded in response before turning back to watch Victor, who had just landed one of his jumps so hard Yuuri could practically see the divots in the ice even without his glasses.

 

As Yuuri stretched, Yakov said without turning around, “I see that Irina is back. How is she?”

 

“Eh? Coach Yakov?”

 

“Vitya’s mother,” he explained before repeating, “How is she?”

 

“Oh,” Yuuri thought for a moment before continuing, “I think she's fine. I don't really know her that well…”

 

Yakov grunted noncommittally, and that seemed to be the end of their conversation.

 

Yuuri had just finished stretching and was checking his laces one more time before stepping onto the ice when Yakov said evenly, “Has Vitya told you about his family yet?”

 

“Eh? Ah, n-no, not really.”

 

“Mm. He will though. And you can see for yourself how they are. Just keep one thing in mind,” Yakov turned to look Yuuri in the eye, “don't be pushed away if he tries to close himself off.”

 

Yuuri gulped, but nodded in determination. “Yes, Coach Yakov.”

 

Yakov’s face softened. “Good,” he said, before turning to the ice and yelling, “Vitya! Get off the ice; your student is here!”

 

Victor stopped abruptly and turned, his face lighting up when he caught sight of his fiance. “Yuuri!” he called, though not as enthusiastically as he usually did. “Are you ready?”

 

“Yes!” Yuuri called back, stepping onto the ice and gliding over to where his coach stood at the center of the rink. He stopped squinting as he came closer and was able to see Victor’s face, which was smiling at him tiredly.

 

“Shall we?” Victor asked.

 

Yuuri nodded. “Let’s go.”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Yuuri, your free leg when you come out of that quad Sal is sloppy! Try again!”

 

“ _Hai!_ ”

 

“You’re working him harder than usual, Vitya.”

 

Victor didn’t turn his eyes away from Yuuri, but he answered, “I always treat him like this when we had a day off the day before.” To Yuuri, he shouted, “Perfect Yuuri! Now show me your combination; your landing is still a bit shaky at the end!”

 

“ _Hai!_ ”

 

“How long have you had him working on jumps, Vitya?”

 

Victor sighed. “This is the thirteenth jump he's done so far,” he admitted.

 

“THIRTEEN TIMES?! VITYA ARE YOU INSANE?!”

 

“Yakov, it's fine. He hasn't hit his limit yet, though he is pushing it.” With that, he called, “Yuuri! That was better! Take a water break and then get back on the ice!”

 

“Okay!”

 

Victor finally turned to Yakov. “See?”

 

Yakov sighed heavily. “What am I going to do with you?”

 

“Well, you're going to coach me, I hope,” Victor joked.

 

Yakov shook his head. “I'm going to see Yuratchka, so let me know if you need anything, alright?”

 

“Alright, bye!”

 

As Yakov left, Yuuri skated over. “What did Coach Yakov want?” he asked curiously.

 

“Oh nothing much. He just wanted to check up on us before heading out.”

 

“Mm.” Yuuri drank from his bottle in a long, continuous gulp, purposely not noticing Victor's own gulp. He smirked internally before putting the bottle down and turning his smoldering brown eyes on Victor.

 

“Victor? Do you want some?” he asked innocently, “You look a little thirsty.”

 

Victor licked his suddenly dry lips. “Yuuri,” he whined.

 

Yuuri laughed and his gaze turned affectionate. “Alright, alright. Here, let me go again for a few more minutes.”

 

“Are you going to cool down anytime soon?”

 

Yuuri hummed in thought. “I was thinking about going through my quad Sal a few more times.”

 

“Okay Yuuri. Don't take too long though; I think Makkachin might be getting lonely without us,” Victor said in a teasing tone.

 

Yuuri smiled. “ _Hai.”_

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 _“_ Ne, Vitya?”

 

Victor looked up from where he was untying his laces and smiled. “What is it, _lyubov moya_?”

 

“I-I saw you today, practicing your short program.”

 

Victor’s smile turned neutral. “Oh,” he said pleasantly, ( _hollowly_ , Yuuri thought), “And what did you think of it?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip. “Um…”

 

“Come on, Yuuri,” Victor goaded, “you must have had _some_ thoughts on today’s performance of it.”

 

Yuuri inhaled through his nose. “Your step sequence was incredibly clean, and your jumps are as good as ever.”

 

“But?” Victor said as he stood up, brushing his knees.

 

Yuuri swallowed, feeling vaguely intimidated by Victor’s tall form towering over him. “Uh…”

 

Victor noticed his discomfort and stepped back a bit, allowing Yuuri some breathing space. “Y-your performance didn’t match!” he blurted out suddenly.

 

Victor cocked his head. “How?”

 

“Um, well, i-it was too angry for a piece about, well, love…”

 

Victor hummed. “I know that Yuuri.”

 

“O-oh.”

 

They stood there in silence, Yuuri fiddling with his hands and looking anywhere but Victor, and Victor staring at Yuuri as if he held the answers to the universe. Eventually, Victor sighed and held out a hand, which Yuuri took tentatively.

 

“Come on, _solnyshko_ ,” he said softly, “Let’s go home.”

 


	5. Everybody Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are talks, and then there are Talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took so long! It’s nearing the end of the semester where I am, so school is trying its best to kill me via exams and projects before break starts (huh, that’d be a funny concept: what if school was a sentient being and it tried to kill you the entire semester, and then ramped up its efforts right before you went on break). Anyways, this means that it’s going to be a long time before chapter 6 comes out, so please bear with me! I’m also working on a couple more fics at this time too, and though they probably won’t be out until break comes along, I’ve already gotten at least halfway through the first one, so it might be up sooner. 
> 
> Also, I realize that all this time, Yuuri should’ve been calling Victor Vitya, not just occasionally. There’s a really good tumblr post that explains why, though I can’t find it now. I WILL go back and fix that in the earlier chapters at one point, but it’s not a priority.
> 
> Please continue to leave comments or kudos! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Again, if I made a mistake (grammar, misgendering Yuuri), please tell me and I’ll fix it.
> 
> My tumblr is acemoppet.

_ They stood there in silence, Yuuri fiddling with his hands and looking anywhere but Victor, and Victor staring at Yuuri as if he held the answers to the universe. Eventually, Victor sighed and held out a hand, which Yuuri took tentatively. _

_ “Come on, solnyshko,” he said softly, “Let’s go home.” _

____________________________________________________________________________

They walked back home, Victor holding Makkachin’s leash in the hand that was not holding Yuuri’s. Usually when they did this, they laughed and talked the whole way home, arms locked and bodies leaning against each other. 

Now, it seemed like there was some distance between them, and the atmosphere was tense. Yuuri kept on sneaking glances at Victor, not sure what to do. He opened his mouth several times, but closed it, not sure what to say. It would not be long before he started spiralling down into a void of self-doubt. Victor looked over and recognized the signs of impending distress. 

“Yuuri,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Oh, uh, yeah?” Yuuri’s voice cracked at the end.

“Let’s go to the park.”

Yuuri looked over at Victor, who was staring at him with soft eyes, even if he did not smile.

“Ok.”

____________________________________________________________________________

They sat down on the bench while Makkachin played in front of them, frolicking in the grass like a little puppy. Yuuri swallowed and glanced over at Victor’s hand, which was lying right next to his. Slowly, he curled his pinky around Victor’s. His heart fell as Victor pulled it away, and he started to curl inwards, trying to hide his embarrassment. He didn’t go far though, as Victor threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. Yuuri bit back a gasp as he collided with the soft warmth of Victor’s side before relaxing into the touch and letting his head fall onto Victor’s shoulder. 

They stayed like that for a while, watching Makkachin play as the sky grew darker and darker and the streetlights flickered on, one by one. Then, Victor sighed and said,

“Yuuri.”

“Yes?” he whispered.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out like that. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Yuuri shifted backwards and looked at Victor. “It’s ok, Vitya. I-I shouldn’t have pried anyway, it was obviously private and-”

“Yuuri,” Victor repeated, this time louder.

“Y-yes?”

“You were worried, I understand. I would’ve done the same thing too.”

“Still though, it was wrong of me to push-”

“Yuuri.” Victor took Yuuri’s chin to turn his face upwards. He tucked a stray lock of black hair behind Yuuri’s ear before cupping his cheek. Yuuri leaned into the touch but kept his eyes on Victor’s, waiting for his next words.

“I-I do this occasionally. It doesn’t happen often, but.. sometimes I need to just, just let it out.”

“So you skate,” Yuuri said solemnly.

“So I skate,” Victor confirmed. He started to drop his hand from Yuuri’s cheek, but Yuuri grabbed his wrist gently and held it there, placing a kiss onto the soft palm. Victor let out a shaky breath at the look of pure love on Yuuri’s face. He almost wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t look away, not even for a second. Slowly, he leaned in, with Yuuri shifting to meet him halfway. He could feel Yuuri’s hot breath over his lips and it made him want  _ more _ . His lips touched Yuuri’s for a brief, glorious second before he was barreled over by a truck.

“Makkachin!” Yuuri laughed.

_ Oh, so not a truck then _ , Victor thought dazedly.

“Vitya, are you alright?” Victor looked up to see Yuuri’s smiling face, though he did look a bit worried.

“Ah, yeah, I’m-I’m good.”

Yuuri’s smile softened. “Come on,” he urged, pulling Victor up, “let’s go home.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and Vitya? If something’s ever bothering you and you can’t vent it out on the ice, you know you can always come to me, right?”

Victor smiled. “Likewise,  _ lyubov moya _ .”

____________________________________________________________________________

They walked in, Victor laughing uncontrollably as Yuuri recounted Phichit’s most recent tales. His stomach hurt from laughing, his cheeks ached from smiling, and his legs throbbed with exertion, but Victor would definitely say that this was the happiest he’d been all day.

Which obviously meant that something had to ruin it.

“Vitenkaaaaa! You’re hoooooooooome!” A streak of brown flew down the hallway and glomped Victor so hard he staggered back into Yuuri.

“A-Anfisa-”

Anfisa pouted at her brother. “Vitenka, call me Anfisochka!” 

Victor sighed raggedly. “Anfisochka, could you please get off of me?”

“Mmmm… nope!” And she tightened her arms around Victor, cutting off his airflow.

“A-Anfisochka! C-Can’t breathe!” 

“Oh, sorry!” She loosened her arms a bit, just enough so that Victor could step out of the embrace and catch his breath. Makkachin whined and pawed at her master’s leg to make sure he hadn’t ascended to heaven in such an untimely fashion. Beside him, Yuuri tried to contain his giggles as he rubbed Victor’s back soothingly.

“What is all this noise for?”

Everyone froze and turned their heads to the front of the hallway, where Victor’s mother was standing. She looked down on each of them with a hawk-like glare, before turning to Yuuri. “You.”

“A-Ah, y-yes?”

“Make me some tea, now.”

“O-Of course!”

“Yuuri, I’ll help you,” Victor said, desperately trying not to bite back at his mother for disrespecting Yuuri.  _ Can’t she see we’re tired? _

“Ah no, Vitya, it’s fine, I can do this-” 

“He’s right, Vitenka. You would just burn down the kitchen, again.”

Victor’s jaw tightened. “Oh Mama, you do me a disservice!” he said through that oh-so-fake smile. “I haven’t burned down the kitchen since I was 5-”

“Better safe than sorry. Besides, we need to finish our talk, Vitenka.”

Victor’s face paled. “Mama-”

“Anfisochka, you go and see if Victor’s fling can make tea properly. After all, it might have been a fluke, yesterday.” Yuuri’s fists clenched so hard his nails were digging into his palms. He bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood to keep from badmouthing Victor’s mother; it would only prove her right, after all.

“Okay~ Come on, piggy, let’s see if you can make tea!” And with that, she flounced off to the kitchen, leaving an impassive Irina and a fuming couple in her wake.

Victor took Yuuri’s and slowly opened it from that painful fist. Yuuri looked up at Victor, who had a tired smile on his face.

“Go on,” he said, “Anfisa’s waiting for you. But,” and here his smile became a bit teasing, “you’ll have to tell me that last part about Phichit learning his Quads!”

Yuuri smiled. “Alright, Vitya.” He leaned up to kiss Victor, not caring about Irina’s steadily growing impatience. Then he walked to the kitchen, leaving only Victor and his mother in the quiet hallway.

They stood there for a while, sizing each other up and letting the sounds from the kitchen wash over them. Then Irina turned, and with her back towards Victor, said 

“Come. We have a lot to talk about, Vitenka.”

____________________________________________________________________________

“No no no! You’re doing it wrong!” Anfisa squealed. Yuuri bit his lips just in time to hold back an exasperated growl.

“Anfisa,” he said evenly, “I haven’t even taken out all of the ingredients yet.”

“But you didn’t even pull out the Samovar yet!”

Yuuri stopped what he was doing and frowned. “Sam...ovar?”

Anfisa’s jaw dropped. “How?!” she screeched, “How can you live in Russia this long and not know what a Samovar is?!”

Yuuri stumbled back against the counter. “I-I know what it is!” he protested, “We just don’t use one.”

Anfisa leveled him with a truly menacing glare. “No. No no no no no, I absolutely refuse to believe that any brother of mine - and by brother I mean Vitenka, not you - uses anything other than a Samovar to make tea!” She ended her declaration by taking the teapot out of Yuuri’s hands and gently placing it on a different counter.

“Now,” she said with a determined gleam in her eye, “Vitenka should still have the Samovar we gave him when he moved out, so let’s go find it! Come on, piggy!”

Yuuri sighed. “You know I have a name, right?”  _ Not to mention calling someone ‘piggy’ is a little... _

“Eh, not important! Come on!”

____________________________________________________________________________

“Vitenka, please, have a seat.”

Victor sat down, feeling a bit offended at being invited to take a seat in  _ his own damn house _ . Just a bit.

He clasped his hands together tightly and leaned forward. “Well, Mama? What was it you wanted to talk about?” he asked with a vacant smile.

Victor’s mother looked at him, her stare sharp with withering disapproval. “Don’t play dumb, Vitenka, you know exactly what I wanted to talk about.”

Victor twitched at her tone. “Oh?” he tried to ask lightly.

“Vitenka, when are you going to stop fooling around with this boy?”

Victor licked his lips. “Mama, my Yuuri is  _ definitely _ not a boy-”

“I looked him up, you know. Yuuri Katsuki, not much to say about him. He’s from a small town, born to two commoners who own an inn-”

“It’s an  _ onsen _ , Mama-”

“-And he lost miserably in a mere skating competition! Not once, but twice! Really Vitenka, I know you fool around a lot, but even you have to admit that this is getting ridiculous! You’ve been with him for over a year; at this rate people will think you’re-”

“-Serious?” Victor asked quietly. His mother stopped and took a good look at her son. His whole body was tense with a restrained anger, his jaw twitched minutely, his mouth was pressed into a firm line, but his eyes-

They were hard and unrelenting, as dangerous as the ice he skated upon. His stare pinned her to her seat, and it frightened her terribly. This was not the quiet, obedient son she’d tried to mould him into, nor was this the charming Casanova mask he’d adopted for most of his adult life. It wasn’t even the carefree, lovesick man the world had come to know last year via Instagram posts and rinkside kisses.

No, the Victor in front of her was none of those. This Victor was a force of nature, ready to fight the world if it kept him away from his love, and it looked like he’d found his first target.

The last time she’d seen Victor even close to being this angry was when she’d said that he should give up skating.

“Let me tell you something, Mama,” Victor said softly, intensely. “I have never been more serious in my life. I love Yuuri, and I’m going to marry Yuuri one day, no matter what. And there’s nothing that you or anyone else can say or do to convince me otherwise.” He stood up abruptly and loomed over her. Irina Nikiforov had never felt this small and pathetic.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to spend my time with my fiance.”


End file.
